Charlie Murtha: an Alternate Harry Potter story
by Aussieboy11
Summary: What if Lily Potter had never given herself up to save her son, so therefore never left him the protection of her love? It would be a very different story.  Takes place a couple years in the future.  Review!
1. Prologue

October 31 is officially marked on the calendar as Dark Lord Day- the day that Voldemort defeated Harry Potter back in 1981. Not only defeated Harry Potter, but decimated what remained of both the Potter and the Evans families. Now, 31 years later, Voldemort is slowly conquering the world.

All of the British Isles, along with most of Europe and some of Africa are under his control. But Voldemort is patient. He takes his time, because he feels that there is no reason for him to hurry, because all of these countries will eventually be conquered. He doesn't need to hurry, because he is immortal, with 7 horcruxes hidden across the world.

Most of the Order of the Phoenix has been killed, not counting Albus Dumbledore, Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew, the latter still in the Dark Lord's Service. The other two were currently in hiding, (last rumored to be seen in America) and doing small things to help with the war effort against Voldemort, but no one was sure about whether or not Dumbledore was still alive, as no one had seen him for the past 15 years.

Things were grim. Almost every single person in the world, even the free ones, woke up every morning, looked at the paper for more news of death and defeat. Voldemort seemed to be unstoppable. But as it always does, life goes on, at least it does for some.

* * *

Charlie Murtha was a popular boy, born to a normal, non-magical family in the state of Vermont in the United States of America. But he was a peculiar kid. 

He was born on the stroke of midnight at the turn of the century, on January 1, 2000. Strange things seemed to always happen around him, such as the fact that when he had particularly vivid dreams, they had a strange tendency to come true, quite literally.

He wasn't particularly large, maybe a little taller than most of the kids in his class, and pretty thin, but pretty muscular, and he had never lost a fight. His opponents could just never seem to hit him hard enough. But he was always gracious about winning, helping his opponents up after the fight.

He was very athletic, the fastest competitive swimmer in all of New England, he was ranked #2 on his tennis team, which had won the New England Title for 3 years in a row, and even though he was still in fifth grade, a year away from middle school, he was a member of the A team for both the basketball and soccer teams at the middle school, and both had won state champion titles.

He was well liked in his school. He was a natural leader, even to the older kids, and people seemed to be drawn to him as though as he were a magnet. Nobody really hated, or even dislike Charlie Murtha, except for maybe some of his teachers. He payed attention in the classes that interested him, but for the others, he constantly slacked off and started fooling around, trying to make people laugh- sometime at the expense of the teacher's pride. On these occasions, he got a trip to the principal's office, but the principal was amoung the teachers who like Charlie, so he'd usually get off with a warning and a light punishment.

Every day went like a routine, and things way out of the ordinary rarely happened. That was until one day, several months before his 11th birthday, when that strange man visited his house and changed his life forever.


	2. The Stranger

Charlie had just left a friend's house and was walking to the front door when he looked into the window. Inside, he saw a rather strange sight. His parents were sitting on the edge of the couch, looking very nervous, across from a stranger. Although they were facing him, they seemed to be completely preoccupied with staring into empty space, so they didn't notice him. His father's left leg was shaking- and it only did that when he was particularly nervous. Even outside, he could feel the tension in the room. Charlie couldn't see much of the stranger.

The sound of the front door snapped Charlie's parents out of their reverie. Charlie's mother jumped up, exclaiming, "Charlie!" and started fussing over him, asking him about his day, every tiny little detail. As she did, Charlie saw that his father and the stranger had stood up, and he got his first real look at the stranger.

He was a large man, not too fat, or too thin, or particularly muscular- just large. He wore a jet black silk suit that was obviously tailored with black shoes made of some sort of skin that Charlie didn't recognize. His hair was the same color as his suit, and was parted on the left side. His eyes were a piercing gray-blue.

Charlie nervously looked at the adults, and decided that the stranger was there on adult business, so he tossed his backpack by the stairs and went to the kitchen to make himself a snack before starting his homework. To his surprise, the adults followed him and sat at the island watching him make a peanut butter sandwich on toasted bread.

When Charlie sat down with his sandwich and a class of milk, the stranger nodded to Charlie's parents, who quickly left the kitchen. (Charlie thought that it was odd that the stranger was giving orders to his parents in their own house) The stranger watched Charlie eat for a while before speaking.

"Do you know who I am, Charlie?" he asked.

"Nope," came the reply.

"My name is Professor Bartholomew Vesper, and I am the headmaster at the North American Institute of Magical Learning. I am here to inform you that you've been accepted."

"Um… Institute of _Magical Learning_?" asked Charlie, trying hard to not to laugh.

Vesper fixed Charlie with a patient look before continuing. "Yes. Although you are not yet aware of it, you are a wizard, Charlie."

Charlie grinned. "Right, a wizard. Why don't you prove it?"

The professor smiled briefly, took out a long, thin stick, gave it wave, which abruptly made the refrigerator explode. Charlie fell out of his chair and started to cover his head when he realized that, one, the professor hadn't moved, and two, there were no refrigerator chunks flying about.

When Charlie cautiously peeked over the top of the table, the fridge was intact, and the professor was grinning mischievously. Charlie sat down heavily on his chair and thought for a while before talking again. "How did you do that."

"Magic," replied the professor, not joking at all, but with a smile on his face. He pulled out the stick again to show Charlie. "This is a wand, Charlie. This is the center of all of a wizards power. Almost all witches and wizards need one these to channel their power, although a rare few can do magic without one, although results are better when using a wand."

"I haven't got one," said Charlie, rather stupidly.

"That can be easily remedied. If you have time, either today, or in a couple days, we can go shopping for one, along with all of your other school supplies that you'll need for the term."

I don't suppose that we'll be able to get any of these in Vermont," said Charlie.

"I'm afraid not. All of our shopping will be done in New York City"

Charlie grinned. He'd been to New York a couple of times, and he loved it- the people, the action, the stress- the latter was what always got to Charlie's mom. Every time they went, Charlie's mom always started worrying about everything, and got very tense, tarnishing the experience slightly, but Charlie usually hung out with his sister, who went to Columbia University in the city, who was much cooler, and use to it, so it was much more fun.

"Do you have an answer yet?" asked the professor.

"Yes, I'm going."

* * *

Charlie was sitting on a private jet en route to New York City. He held a cup of tea in one hand and a cookie in the other as he watched his on-board TV. Two piece of paper were on the table in front of him. Ever few minutes, Charlie would pick them up and read them.;

_Dear Mr. Murtha,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted to the All American Institute of Magical Learning. Attached to this letter is a list for the school supplies that you will need for your year. Please have them ready before the start of the term. There will be an Welcoming Feast on the night of September 1, and classes will begin the following morning. Transportation will be pre-arranged. We look forward to seeing you._

_Sincerely,_

_Bartholomew Vesper_

_Headmaster_

_**School Supplies List**_

_The following is a list of required supplies for you term at _

_the North American Institute of Magical Learning_

_**List for First Years**_

_Uniform_

_5 sets of School Robes.(Please specify to shop keeper when buying)_

_2 everyday cloaks, same color as robes_

_1 winter cloak (black, silver clasps)_

_1 set of tranfigureable tame badges_

_1 set of dragon hide gloves_

_Books_

_Miscellaneous_

_1 wand_

_1 cauldron (pewter, size 12)_

_1 standard potions kit_

_1 set of brass scales_

_1 telescope_

_Students may also bring a cat, rat or owl as a pet_

* * *

Charlie had just finished his last cookie when Vesper spoke. Charlie was a bit alarmed, as he did not even notice that Vesper had woken up, but calmed down quickly. "I'm surprised that you've managed to suppress your questions for so long, Charlie," he said. 

Questions had indeed been forming on the edges of Charlie mind for the entire time since he had found out that he was a wizard, but he had always been a bit afraid to ask them. "Do you mind if I ask them?" said Charlie.

"Not at all," replied Vesper.

"Who decided that I would be a wizard?"

"No one really _decided_. There is a magical piece of parchment kept at the American Ministry of Magic, and when an witch or wizard shows his or her first signs of real magic below the age of 11, their name appears on the list, which is then put down for enrollment at our school."

"What happens to the kids in magical families who don't show any signs of magic?"

Vesper sighed. "Just as there are magical people within completely non-magical families, there are non-magical people within magical families. These people are know as squibs. In magical society, it is considered disgraceful to be born a squib, and many actually commit suicide, because it is very difficult to go through daily life seeing them complete magical feats, while you can't even levitate a feather, and be laughed at all the while. Myself and some other people have been trying very hard to make life easier for these people."

They continued talking for while, before the subject steered to their current mission. "Where will we be buying the supplies? I've been to New York a couple times, and I've never seen a shop selling magical wands or anything."

"That is because you don't know where to look. There is a small pub in the Manhattan called the Jolly Goblin. It has been charmed so that muggles cannot see it, because it is the gateway to Watson's Street, one of the many, but by far the best place in New England to buy the things that you'll be needing. First we'll be going to Gringotts to create an account for you and to deposit some money, and then we'll go shopping."

"Gringotts?" asked Charlie.

"Gringotts is arguable the best wizards bank in the world. It has several branches in every large country in the world, except for Britain and other places that occupied by Voldemort."

"Voldemort? That crazy guy who's taking over Europe? What's he got to do with Gringotts?"

Voldemort is a wizard, one of the most powerful dark wizards ever. They use to say that he was afraid of a man named Albus Dumbledore, but Dumbledore is way past his prime now, and rumored to be dead, so he's pretty much got free reign. When he took over Britain, he started ordering the Goblins (they run Gringotts) around, treating them like slaves, and they didn't like that, so they destroyed all the branches of the banks in Britain and fled the country. Now, whenever they recieve news that Voldemort is expanding, they'll do the same with all the branches in the area, because they know that he is pretty much unstoppable. Most other setinel magical creatchers, such as centaurs, have also fled. Some of the only remaining ones are house elves, who are pretty much slaves, and the evil werewolves that he uses in his armies."

They continued to talk as the engines of the plane droned on. Almost an hour and a half later, the captain came into the cabin and said, "We'll be arriving in 10 minutes."

* * *


End file.
